


if i had a voice i would sing

by gasmsinc



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Dystopia, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pregnancy Kink, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:12:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmsinc/pseuds/gasmsinc
Summary: Jonny’s been waiting for The Hunt for an agonizingly long summer now, biding his time and impatiently waiting. He’s been allowed to Hunt ever since last year, but he put it off, survived the ridicule of his family and the Elders and the rest of the pack patiently, waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick,his Patrick, to reach his eighteenth year.He’s known since they were pups, since he was old enough to hold Patrick in his small arms and feel his weight, since he was mature enough to absorb Patrick’s scent and his golden curls and his bright blue eyes, that Patrick ishis.





	if i had a voice i would sing

**Author's Note:**

> I started re-watching the History Channel's _Vikings_ , and everyone knows how much I love werewolves, so those are my excuses for this. 
> 
> This is also for the abo prompt from Game 4, but because of the person I am it's being posted late :(
> 
> Title of this fic is from Fever Ray's "If I Had a Heart", which is the theme song to _Vikings_.

Jonny’s been waiting for The Hunt for an agonizingly long summer now, biding his time and impatiently waiting. He’s been allowed to Hunt ever since last year, but he put it off, survived the ridicule of his family and the Elders and the rest of the pack patiently, waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick, _his Patrick_ , to reach his eighteenth year.

He’s known since they were pups, since he was old enough to hold Patrick in his small arms and feel his weight, since he was mature enough to absorb Patrick’s scent and his golden curls and his bright blue eyes, that Patrick is _his_.

 _His_ , _his_ , _his_ , and he’ll fight any other alpha, any other beta, even any other _omega_ who decides that Patrick is theirs. He’ll Hunt Patrick and protect Patrick and Claim Patrick as _his_.

The Elders always let the omegas run first, but it’s pointless. It’s late summer and they smell of their heats, of the slick between their legs. They leave an obscene scent trail as they run, zigzagging between trees and across the open valleys as they try to hide and make it through the night without being Claimed.

Jonny can smell the other omegas as he walks, stepping over logs and through mud, but he doesn’t care for them. All he cares for is his Patrick, of the sweet scent of slick between Patrick’s thighs, of his heat: honey sweet and raw. Patrick’s a mile ahead at least, scent soaked with a swirl of fear and anxiety. He’s scared and nervous, as if he won’t be found by Jonny, as if someone else will find him and Claim him.

Jonny growls to himself at the thought, noise piercing through the night.

He won’t allow it.

He won’t allow his sweet, sweet Patrick to be Claimed by anyone but _him_.

He quickens his pace, following Patrick’s scent across the stream.

Patrick is sweet, but he’s also _smart_. He knows that water will delude his scent, but Jonny knows him, knows that Patrick loves the trees and will head for the heart of the forest, to the secret spot where they used to meet as children to share small kisses before they were separated, before the Elders became worried that they were Mated and would act on their desires before the proper age, before the Hunt where they would ask Freyr to bless the harvest. A child produced outside of the Hunt is cursed, a thing to be left in a ravine before it brings death upon their people.

He will strangle the Elders, choke the life out of them one by one, tear their bodies apart and put them to the pyre, cursing them never to reach Valhalla if they lay a hand on his children, if they keep him from Patrick.

He is tired of them, and once he has Patrick, has him Claimed and Mated and made fat with his child he will kill them all. They are old and unnecessary, steeped in the old ways that will destroy their people, and Jonny will not allow it. He will become Earl, and then King, Patrick by his side.

Patrick’s scent becomes stronger.

He’s closer, heat heavier.

Patrick’s thighs will be soaked with slick by the time Jonny captures him. Soaked and spread wide, yielding to him. He will sink between those sweet, milky white thighs, taste Patrick’s slick and stuff him full of cock, knot him until Patrick is overflowing with his seed, a child already forming in his sweet little belly.

There’s a hunger burning in the pit of Jonny's stomach, cock growing hard at just the thought.

He will finally have _his_ omega.

The wind howls, and he catches the scent of heat and sex in the air. The other alphas have found their omegas, but Jonny pays them little mind. They will fuck an omega and then move on to the next willing partner, but they all know that he will rip their throats out by his teeth if they come close to what is his.

Jonny will not share Patrick, not tonight, not tomorrow, not any day. His children will know that he fathered them, that no other alpha put their seed in their mother’s womb. They will know him and call him Father, and he will love and protect them until the gods rip the last breath from his lungs. No god or Elder will keep him from his children.

It takes only a few more steps for him to find his love.

Patrick is as beautiful as Jonny always thought he would be while in the midst of his first heat. It takes the breath from his lungs to see him, to see all of that lovely pale skin on display, Patrick’s thighs wet with slick, nipples rosy and lips pink, skin flushed from his heat. He looks at Jonny, pupils blown wide and dark with lust as he whimpers, reaching for him.

Jonny cannot deny Patrick the world. “My darling,” he says, shedding of his tunic and trousers and boots.

Patrick whimpers again, thighs spread wide, cock hard and jutting against his stomach. There is seed there from where he’s pleasured himself, waiting for Jonny, unable to resist touching.

“My darling,” he says again, nestling between those lovely thighs.

Patrick looks at him, a spark of recognition flashing across his eyes. If any other alpha would have approached him, he would have bitten and kicked, done anything to get away, but he _knows_ Jonny, knows that Jonny is his alpha and _only_ his alpha.

He comes when Jonny settles his weight on him, letting out a sharp moan that makes Jonny's cock leak. "Darling," Jonny repeats, unable to say anything else. He drags his nails through the mess on Patrick's stomach, sharp fine-tipped claws leaving light scratches against the otherwise unembellished skin.

The Wolf in him is coming out, his teeth elongated into sharp points, senses more in-tune to the world around them. He wants to claim and to mark, bite Patrick's pretty skin and leave his mate mark where everyone can see it, but he must be gentle too. If he hurts Patrick, then Patrick will fear him, will turn from him and seek comfort in someone else's arms. Patrick might be a bitch in heat, almost mindless, but he'll remember this when his thoughts clear, and Patrick's words and cold shoulder hurt more than any claws or teeth.

Jonny whimpers at the thought of his love shunning him. Patrick makes his own soft, confused noise, insecure in Jonny's uncertainty.

Jonny growls, pressing his weight down. He cannot show weakness when Patrick is his most vulnerable. He'll deny Jonny, think him unfit to father his children.

"Hush," he says, pressing his face to Patrick's neck to kiss his pulse point, inhaling the scent of sweet honey. Patrick wraps his legs tight around his waist, the hungry little whore. "I've come to take care of you, my little mouse."

Patrick scrapes his nails down Jonny's back, raising welts, his own usually blunt nails turned into sharp points. His teeth won't elongate, but they've always been sharp. Jonny has scars from when they were children, from when he would mount Patrick and try to make him submit, and Patrick would turn his head, clamping down and drawing blood until Jonny let him go.

All pups play fight each other, mounting and biting and kicking for dominance, but when it had become apparent that Jonny was an alpha and Patrick an omega, they had been separated. Jonny's continuous mounting of Patrick and _only_ Patrick could mean one thing and one thing only: that they were Mates and Bonded, and there was nothing the Elders feared more.

Jonny had been taken from his omega mother and beta brother and placed with the alphas in the care of Bryan, an alpha who was probably not his birth father but was the only alpha willing to deal with him. He had been angry, oh so _angry_. He had been taken from his mother and brother and from _Patrick_ , his _Patrick_ , to live with the other alphas at only eight. There was nothing more he wanted to do than rip the throats of the Elders, but Bryan had calmed him, had planted the first seeds of revolution in Jonny's brain. If only Jonny would _wait_ , train and grow strong behind the Elders' backs, remain docile and loyal while reaping their trust, he could have his Patrick and destroy the Elders too.

For ten long years now, Jonny has been waiting. Growing strong, training and fighting and sowing the seeds of revolution in the mind of the other alphas. The genius behind it all is still Bryan, but he is older now, too weak to overthrow anyone, especially the Elders with their loyalists, but Jonny will be the willing warrior if that means he gets what he wants: power, and _Patrick_.

Patrick makes a noise, withering under him, dragging his cock against Jonny's abs. He's desperate, eyes so very blue but pupils blown large. He's overheated, skin flushed and clammy from sweat, but he's never looked more beautiful to Jonny, who's only been able to sneak secret glances and hold Patrick's fingers through the fence separating their village from the omegas'.

He licks at Patrick's throat, huffing hot hair against his already overheated skin, but Patrick only moans, curling his toes and dragging his nails down Jonny's back. Jonny shifts, and the head of his cock drags across Patrick's hole where he's open and wet and begging to be filled, but Jonny wants to taste him first.

"Let me taste you," he demands when Patrick growls, irritated that Jonny is trying to pull away from him. Jonny flashes his eyes red and Patrick bares his teeth back, still feisty and feral, but he bows to Jonny's whim, loosening his grip.

"There we are my sweetheart," Jonny purrs, shifting Patrick's hips up and wider, exposing him. Patrick makes a noise that could be confused as embarrassment, but Jonny ignores him. There's nothing for Patrick to be embarrassed about. Jonny wants to know every inch of his body, taste every embellishment.

The noise Patrick makes when Jonny bites his thigh makes Jonny growl. He likes the noise, so he does it again, careful with his teeth to only nip the skin instead of pierce it. Patrick digs his hands into his hair, urging him forward.

"You want me to taste you, don't you?" says Jonny, smirking. "You want my mouth to be covered in your slick, for me to taste and feel how wet you are for me."

Patrick moans, pulling his knees to his chest. "Whore," Jonny says, fond, kissing a bite mark, sucking the skin between his teeth so that it will bruise. Under his trousers no one will see Jonny's claim, but at least they will both know that it's there.

Jonny tilts forward, running his tongue over Patrick's hole, smirking when Patrick makes a brutal noise, fingers tightening in his hair. He breathes a laugh against Patrick's skin, lapping and lapping, tasting Patrick's slick and feeling it cover his mouth and chin, delighting in being so filthy because Patrick is so wet for _him_.

He uses his thumbs to spread Patrick wider, straightening his tongue and pushing in alongside the tips of his thumbs, and Patrick's thighs shake, his breaths becoming quicker, moans louder.

Patrick comes, whole body going rigid as he adds to the mess on his stomach before he goes pliant and loose, whimpering, eyes and cheeks wet from tears. He continues to whimper, thighs shaking, tugging at Jonny's hair.

Jonny kisses each flushed thigh before he kisses his way up Patrick's body, flicking his tongue at his oversensitive cock head just to hear Patrick choke, before he bites a rosy nipple each, laughing when Patrick tries to curl away from him.

Jonny keeps him in place easily, thrusting his hard cock against Patrick's soft belly. Patrick's fingers are calloused from working the fields, legs skinny but firm from chasing after the pigs and goats every time they get loose, but as an omega he is smaller, skin soft and body unequipped for anything more than a playful game of wrestling with the other omegas or a bored beta. Jonny could crush him if he wanted to, hold Patrick's skinny wrists in his hand and break them. Even outside of his heat with his claws and teeth to protect him, mind in its right place, Patrick would ultimately be powerless to stop Jonny from hurting him. Jonny has suffered worse injuries in battle than Patrick's baby teeth.

But Jonny could never hurt Patrick. Could never crush his bones or mount him against his will. The distrust and hatred and pain that any hurtful actions would breed in Patrick is enough to break Jonny. If he were to ever hurt Patrick, accidentally or otherwise, he would gladly sharpen the blade Patrick would use to slit his throat in retribution.

"I love you," he says, stuffing his face into Patrick's neck for one sweet moment, knowing that Patrick has no mind to say it right now, but Jonny's heard him say it enough times back, hurried and whispered between the fence posts before they could be caught, to know that Patrick loves him too.

The Elders tried to separate them, but the old fools have no power over boys who are in love.

Jonny pulls away from Patrick, gently turning him over with a hand on his hip. Patrick pushes up onto his knees, back bowed perfectly, ass in the air, cheek against the ground while his fingers dig grooves into the dirt. He deserves to be taken on a bed made for a king, but The Hunt is not supposed to be about love making. It is supposed to be about short, hard fucking in honor of Freyr.

"When I am King, you will never sleep on a pallet again. You will sleep on a bed of furs, always warm and fat with my child." Jonny mounts Patrick as he speaks, cock sliding between his cheeks as he runs his claws delicately over Patrick's stomach, making his promises. "You will never know hunger, or fear, or cold. Our children will suckle at your tit and never know what it means to be taken from you."

Patrick gasps, eyes heavy, but Jonny sees recognition in them, acknowledgement of promises he has made before. Patrick knows that he will keep them, has even made demands of him: that the children born of his womb will never be taken from him, that The Hunt will end, that any alpha who rapes or beats an omega be drawn and quartered, that he rule by Jonny's side as his equal.

Jonny will fulfill every demand and promise.

He kisses the top of Patrick's spine, holding his hip hard enough to bruise as he finally takes his cock in hand and lines up. They both gasp as he pushes in, Patrick's body warm and welcoming, taking him in until Jonny is to the hilt.

It's overwhelming.

Jonny holds himself still, soaking in the feel of Patrick, tight and warm and wet around his cock, body perfect. "Gods," he whispers, shifting, sinking deeper as he holds Patrick's hip and uses the other to hold to Patrick's shoulder.

He means to give Patrick time to adjust, but Patrick has other intentions, spurred on by the cock in his ass. He lifts his head, balancing his weight on one arm as he reaches back to touch Jonny's hand on his hip, and then he bucks, trying to fuck himself on Jonny's cock, mouth wide open, eyes gleaming mischievously as he looks back at Jonny.

"Whore," breathes Jonny, his own mouth falling open at the feel of Patrick moving, but he cannot allow Patrick all the fun. He removes his hand from Patrick's shoulder, instead slipping it into the luscious blonde locks, forcing Patrick's head back. Patrick gasps excitedly, digging his nails into the ground for purchase. Jonny shifts his knees, growling a warning, before he pulls his cock out, moaning at the feel, before he slams back in.

Patrick howls, actually howls, noise piercing into the otherwise silent night. Jonny laughs breathlessly, opening his mouth to take in the pheromones of their fucking, catching the scent of Bollig on the wind and the scrappy omega named Shawsy that Patrick is always hanging around with. Their scents smell of no others, and Jonny smiles privately to himself. Bollig is a good fighter, strong and muscular, able to break a man's neck with only his blunt teeth. If he becomes enamored with Shawsy and fathers Shawsy's child, he'll be much easier to persuade over to Jonny's side.

Patrick growls as if he knows that Jonny is thinking about other things than fucking him. He gives as well as he takes, fucking himself back against Jonny, breaths labored, but there's a satisfied smirk on his face. Jonny can see him now, giggling with the other omegas as they spy on the alphas bathing, talking in whispered tones about the first time they'll participate in The Hunt, equal parts terrified and aroused. Jonny can see it now: the omegas giggling, mouths watering at his body and the size of his cock, but Patrick asserting that _he_ and _only he_ will be the one to ride it, to taste it and be knotted by it.

Patrick might only be an omega, but he was born with the mind of an alpha: assertive, dominant, _possessive_. He is the undisputed leader of the younger omegas, a surrogate mother to the babes who have lost their own, and beloved by all. The omegas will do anything Patrick asks of them, and he will protect them fiercely.

"Such a fierce little mouse, aren't you?" Jonny breathes, slamming his cock in and holding it there, just to hear Patrick growl in annoyance and feel him struggle to get him moving again. Patrick twists his head despite the hand in his hair, baring his teeth, face furious. If he had a clear mind he would be cursing Jonny now, spitting words at him the same way he does when Jonny is late from battle practice and their short, secret time exchanging words between the fence posts is cut short to only a few seconds.

"I'll give you what you want, little mouse," Jonny laughs, pulling out and slamming back in, delighting in the way that Patrick's knees slide against the dirt, the furious look swiftly erased from his face. Jonny's found that spot inside of him, the one Seabs and Sharpy told him of, the one that Sharpy claims really makes an omega go dumb. Every time he angles his hips just right, Patrick makes a sweet little moan, arms shaking with the effort to keep himself up, body getting slicker. He's so wet that his thighs are gleaming with it, his body making the dirtiest noise every time Jonny fucks in.

Jonny reaches around, wrapping his hand around Patrick's cock, thumb playing with the head. Patrick whines, noise going feral, growling as he comes, head thrown back in ecstasy, body tightening sinfully.

Jonny growls, roaring, seizing forward to bury his teeth into Patrick's shoulder, both hands going to his hips to keep him still as he fucks in and in and in, stuffing his cock into Patrick's pliant, loose body. He feels his knot forming, large and nearly painful. "Let me in," he begs around the flesh of Patrick's shoulder, licking the blood away from where he's pierced the skin, sure to leave a scar. It drives him crazy knowing that Patrick will be marked as _his_ for forever. No one will be able to erase that mark, no one's teeth will ever fit perfectly there. "Let me in sweetheart, let me give you what you need."

Patrick whimpers, shaking, barely able to hold himself up. " _Please_ ," Jonny begs. "Darling, darling, _please_. You need my knot, need me to fuck you full of my seed." Patrick continues to whimper. "Let me get you fat with my child. _Only_ my child." Patrick sighs, and then he collapses, turning his head to the side and up, exposing his neck and submitting.

Jonny nearly sobs as he holds Patrick still, forcing his knot past the tight ring of muscle. Patrick whimpers, seizing up, but Jonny hushes him, soothes his ache with gentle strokes over his hips, and then finally his knot is in, nestled tightly in Patrick's tight, wet, body. "Darling," Jonny breathes, amazed by the feeling, how Patrick looks, knowing he will be the only person ever to see this. "Darling," he repeats, rocking gently on his heels, chasing his orgasm.

Patrick makes a noise, turning his head, eyes wet with tears. " _Please_ ," he whispers, mind clearing, and Jonny nearly sobs as he comes, collapsing his weight onto Patrick, covering his insides with spurts of seed. He'll be soaked with it by the time Jonny pulls out, leaking down his thighs, mixing with his slick, and Jonny will stuff his seed back inside of him with his fingers until he's sure that it has taken.

Patrick can't hold them up, collapsing under Jonny's weight with a cry of pain, pulling on Jonny's knot uncomfortably. "Hush, hush," Jonny soothes, petting Patrick's thighs and stomach, spooning him. He lifts Patrick's leg, hooking it under his elbow to try and make it easier for him.

They breathe heavily together, Jonny's breath hot on the back of Patrick's neck, his damp curls tickling his nose. When Jonny's breath comes easier, he sits up, licking gently at the bite mark he left on Patrick's shoulder. "I'm sorry, my love," he says, one hand splayed over Patrick's dirty stomach. In a few months hell be round with their child, tucked away somewhere safe. The Elders will never let Jonny near his children, and once they're sure of it—once Patrick's belly starts to grow, they'll steal away in the middle of night, go somewhere safe where the Elders won't be able to touch Patrick.

Patrick does not speak again until Jonny's knot is gone. He groans when Jonny pulls out, immediately swatting his fingers away. "There's no need my love," he says, reclining on his back, cock growing hard against his thigh. Their first bout of fucking has cleared his mind, turned him back into the slippery fool that Jonny loves. "I plan to ride your cock until your child is inside of me, once I regain the energy."

Jonny grins, taking his rightful place between Patrick's thighs. He balances his weight on his elbows, running his fingers gently through Patrick's hair. "I'm quite disappointed that you're the first alpha to find me."

" _Oh_?" growls Jonny.

"I wanted to see you tear anyone who would dare touch me apart with your teeth," says Patrick, eyes mischievous, dangerous. "I'm sure Odin would also bless us for delivering another warrior to his hall."

Jonny snorts, breathing the same air as Patrick. "No man who dares to touch you is a warrior." Patrick lifts an eyebrow. "They are an idiot," Jonny continues. "For I will tear any man who looks at you apart."

Patrick laughs, winding his arms around Jonny's shoulders. They kiss, long and deep, both unpracticed in the art, until Patrick pushes and pushes, forcing Jonny onto his back. He settles on Jonny's thighs, smirking down at him as he reaches back to wrap his hand around Jonny's hardening cock, eliciting a gasp from him. "Now be quiet, my King," he says. "You have other things to concentrate on."

"Like what?" Jonny asks, playing stupid, hands settling on Patrick's narrow hips.

Patrick shakes his head, lifting onto his knees. "Like filling me with your child." And then he lowers himself, back straight, eyes wide and mischievous, smirking as he fills himself with Jonny's cock, and Jonny knows that he is the one who has been Claimed.


End file.
